


The First Prophecy

by FreyaFallen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, First attempt at fanfiction, OC death, Secrets, Tags may apply in the future, Tom is not redeemed, mentions of rape/abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-06 05:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11029212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaFallen/pseuds/FreyaFallen
Summary: Tom Marvolo Riddle is intelligent, handsome, and charming. He is also slowly building an army of loyal Knights who will assist him in taking over the Wizarding World. After the chaos that was his fifth year, he is ready to begin setting his followers on the paths that will lead him to power. However, he has recently noticed one of his classmates is hiding a secret. This secret could reveal Tom as a rising Dark Lord before he has the chance to seize the power that is rightfully his, unless he can persuade her to work for him instead.Please note that warnings will apply to the fic as a whole, and not necessarily individual chapters. I will try to warn when a specific chapter has anything particularly graphic. I may also alter or add warnings and tags as the story evolves.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever attempt at fanfiction. I have tried making it as canon-compliant as possible. This plot bunny came to me while wondering why Voldemort invested so much into the prophecy he helped fulfill. I thought it would be interesting to see how young Tom would react to being the subject of prophecy. I researched into the backgrounds of various seers in the Potterverse to build something somewhat believable. I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> (Also, I am currently seeking a beta, if anyone is interested.)

For what felt like the millionth time this evening, Tom found himself staring down at an over-eager young woman. This particular one was a Hufflepuff— rare enough that happened— and came to just about his chin. She was pretty, if a little plump, and batted lashes framing large brown eyes as she smiled nervously.

“What you are proposing is against the rules, Miss Hornby. Surely you know that?” he said gently. Of course, the girl could hardly know rules were the last reason Tom refused her generous offer. It was one of the more forward of the night, and no doubt the reason Hornby’s cheeks reddened even in the torchlit corridor. The weight of his gaze alone pushed her eyes to the floor. She fingered the pleats of her skirt, apparently at a loss. “Please get back to your dormitory before I am forced to report you. I would so dislike to see such a lovely young woman scrubbing floors or shining trophies.”

Finally, after a moment of dark eyes staring into warm, the girl relented. “Well, maybe I’ll see you the next Hogsmeade weekend?” she whined.

“Oh, I’m sure.” His smile seemed genuine enough, and she soon stepped away, walking in the direction of the kitchens.

Tom waited until the sound of her light steps echoing through the empty corridors faded and turned to continue his rounds. There was a specific reason he was in this part of the castle, and it wouldn’t do for Elyssa Hornby to find out. Her sister Olive (a Ravenclaw) was a dreadful gossip, and this would damage the reputation of some of his people. In Slytherin, a reputation was as important as family name.

He was fairly sure they’d be right around here. Not this little alcove. Perhaps… Yes. There was a slight groan behind a statue of Saint George with sword held aloft.

“You know,” he drawled, “This might be why you both keep falling asleep in History. While Binns may not care, your grades certainly reflect your lack of rest.”

“Shit!” The sounds of scrambling clothes and shuffling feet were followed by the appearance of two young men. Nott was flushed from their activities, steadily avoiding the gaze of his smaller companion. Avery’s tie was still undone and he’d skipped a button on his shirt. They were hopeless.

“Er, hi there, Tom.” Avery grinned up at him, which had the effect of making his fellow sixth-year student look about thirteen. Avery’s guileless, boyish charm was an asset in dealing with those of a suspicious disposition. In fact, the boy didn’t even have to try using it. He was a natural.

He shook his head at the two of them. “We have a perfectly good dorm. It’s not as though Lestrange and Black would notice, especially if you put up a simple _muffliato_.” One dark brow rose pointedly. “Unless, of course, the risk is part of the appeal?”

Nott’s face had just returned to its normal color when it reddened again. “Aw, come off it. We get it, Tom, we get it.” He grabbed a handful of Avery’s shirt sleeve. “Let’s get back to the dungeons, Freddie.”

“Before you go, see that you are more discrete in your affairs, gentlemen,” Tom said. “I can only do so much to protect you, and should you compromise yourselves for a little fun…” He left the threat unsaid, but the looks on the boys’ faces said they understood. They both nodded and hurried away.

The prefect sighed to himself, idly fingering his wand. The two had yet to prove their usefulness, but at least he could be certain of their loyalty.

\--

His two errant followers were absent from breakfast the following morning, having no doubt continued their activities in the intimacy of a four poster bed. As such, Tom decided he would sit behind the pair in the classes where they were most likely to fall asleep. This resulted in him sliding into the back row of seats in their double History session that afternoon.

Professor Binns began droning on as soon as class began despite three students still entering and a few standing beside their seats rather than in them. Tom was, of course, already prepared and began jotting notes inattentively as he kept an eye on Avery and Nott. Within minutes, the fair-haired Alfred’s lashes fluttered shut and he started leaning forward in his seat. Tom jabbed the back of his neck with the tip of his quill, which resulted in a most satisfying yelp as Avery slapped where the sharp point had left a small black mark.

Tom rolled his eyes at Nott’s snort of amusement, and dipped his quill in the ink jar. He was about to scribe down the names and dates of a few battles when something caught his eye.

A seat to the left of Avery was a Ravenclaw who looked to be asleep—her head hung, body slumped, pale brown hair hanging around her slack features. But her hand was scrawling furiously across her parchment, stopping every nine words to ink her quill. Whatever she was writing seemed like an exact pattern. At the end of each short segment, she would skip a line and begin again. Just over two lines and she would repeat again.

Tom leaned forward to try and make out any of the words, but her script was like ants across the off-white paper. He tapped Avery’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t falling asleep, Tom, swear!” hissed the boy.

So melodramatic, he thought. “Switch me seats.”

“What?”

“Switch me,” he said, voice dangerously low. Avery nodded and the two swapped with only Nott’s puzzlement to notice them. The girl’s forearm pushed the parchment forward as she skipped down to the next line, the head of the paper curling over the front edge of the desk.

Closer now, Tom could make out just the tail end of each line. If anything, what he saw raised more questions than they answered. _…eat that which He…_ and he was fairly sure the next full line ended _…Lord is born in the…_ How curious. Maybe if he was just a little closer...

As he slowly leaned toward the left, the Ravenclaw pushed the parchment up more to move down to the next line. Unfortunately for her, that was more than the paper could handle and it slid to the floor with the gentlest rustle.

The girl’s quill came down onto the desk without pause and slid across the slick surface. Her forearm came down to follow and she jolted upright. Her eyes snapped open, looked to the black ink marring her skin, at the desk with its smudged ink, coming to rest on the parchment beside her feet. As her head turned, no doubt to see who had noticed her somnolent activities, Tom jotted down a few notes as casually as though his gaze hadn’t been glued to her for the past few minutes.

He could just make out a crinkling as her foot slid the paper within her reach. In his periphery, he saw her lean in the opposite direction and pull the writing back onto her desk, where it stayed for the remainder of the period.

As the class ended, Tom nodded to his followers to head out before him. He slowly packed away his notes, shuffling through some items in his satchel as though they need more organizing. He waited until the girl had finished stuffing everything into her desk, halfway to the head of the room, before he stood. When she reached the door, she crumpled the single piece of parchment into a tight ball and dropped it into the waste basket before leaving.

Tom was the last student to leave. He watched the door click closed and took the parchment out of the receptacle. He had more than enough time before he was expected anywhere, so he straightened out the paper, smoothing long fingers over the wrinkles, and read.

_To Fly from Death, He gathers shades round Himself to become His Knights and eat that which He Fears Most. And Fear shall be his Signature and Death shall be his Name. A Dark Lord is born in the Shadow of the Greater Good._

_To Fly from Death, He gathers shades round Himself to become His Knights…_

Fly from Death, Death as his name, born out of the shadow of the Greater Good. Well, now. This was unexpected, and entirely unpleasant.

Tom carefully folded up the paper and placed it in his bag. Avery and Nott were waiting for him just outside the door, but he silenced them with a hand. He needed time to think. What did he know about the Ravenclaw?

She was a Ravenclaw and, thus, intelligent to some degree. Fairly quiet. She never seemed to standout. In fact, Tom couldn’t recall anything particularly noteworthy about her. She rarely answered questions in class, had never been involved in any sordid affairs of the sort to become gossip. No, Elena Vablatsky was as ordinary as the majority of students at Hogwarts.

Except…

_It was his third year and his first Arithmancy class. Professor Abernathy was getting to know the students as he took roll. It was alphabetical, so her name was one of the very last._

_“Ah, Vablatsky, Elena. Any relation to famed seer, Cassandra Vablatsky?” the professor asked cheerfully._

_The small girl colored and murmured, “She’s my mother.”_

_The wizard clapped his hands together once. “How wonderful! I assume you’re in Divination, then? Can we expect any mysterious visions in class this year?”_

_“Oh, no, professor,” she said. “I’m afraid I don’t have my mother’s gift.”_

_There was a beat of awkward silence. “Ah, if you could all turn to page ninety-four and we will get started on theory…”_

Daughter of famed seer Cassandra Vablatsky, and she’d said she didn’t have the gift. She’d lied, and hidden this ability for nearly six years, and he’d been none the wiser. Who knew what visions she’d had in that time. If this was any guess, she knew dangerous things, things not even his loyal Knights were privy to. And she was walking through the corridors with all this knowledge, all these secrets that were rightfully his.

They were nearly to the Great Hall when Tom swirled around to face Avery, Nott, and Lestrange—when had Lestrange joined them? No matter—and the three stopped abruptly. “What do you know about Elena Vablatsky?”

“The Ravenclaw?” Lestrange asked. “Quiet. Pretty, if a little mousy.”

“Smart enough to be in some impressive NEWT level classes,” Avery added. “Good family— pureblood, the Vablatskys, but she’s the end of their line.”

Tom considered this. “Which families are close to the Vablatskys?” He turned again, expecting them to keep up (they did).

“My aunt— mum’s older sister— was friends with Cassandra for the longest time. They had a falling out before I was born,” Avery said. He fingered an earlobe indelicately, remembering. “Aunt Lisabette thought it was a shame when she found out about Cassandra’s daughter— she was sure she could have secured the Vablatsky inheritance for our family if we had grown up together.”

They seated themselves at their usual place in the center of the Slytherin table, Tom pouring himself water while the others began digging into their food with little regard for decorum. “And Mister Vablatasky?”

Avery had the grace to swallow before answering, thankfully. “He’s Eastern European, moved here as a young man. Apparently, his family wanted to avoid some economic issues that had hit their muggle population. His name is something strange— Aurek, I think.”

Tom tapped his fingertips on his goblet. This backstory was all necessary, he supposed, but nothing explained Vablatsky’s lie. And it seemed as though the family was self-segregated enough to have no easy access point for information. “What about friends? Who is Miss Vablatsky close to?”

“Why the questions, Tom?” Nott was watching him, a curious glint in his brown eyes. “Are you _interested_ in her?”

A corner of his mouth twinged, though whether to smile or frown even he was not sure. “You could say that. They were close enough together and far enough from untrustworthy ears that Tom felt safe enough to add, “I have reason to suspect Miss Vablatsky may be keeping a valuable secret. The sort that could prove advantageous were we to exploit it, and possibly dangerous were it left unchecked.”

Avery and Lestrange were uncertain at that, but Nott was thoughtful. “Do you want us to watch her, Tom?”

He nodded. “Be discrete about it, and subtle questioning as well.” They were all Slytherins to a T and, despite Avery and Nott’s behavior the previous evening, could act as such when the occasion called for it. “I particularly want to know who she is close to, more about her family, any secrets they may be hiding. And…” One hand twitched toward his pocket thoughtfully. Should he? Well, they knew better than to cross him. “Pay particular attention when she seems to be nodding off during class. Report any unusual behavior to me immediately.” That should be enough to clue them in were Vablatsky to repeat today’s performance.

Nott sucked in his cheeks, a habit when he was thinking of something. After a pause, he said, “How important is this? Do you want us to call in family favors if necessary?”

“If you think it will result in information that could… persuade Miss Vablatsky to be sympathetic to us, yes.” There. Now all three young men knew the seriousness of the matter. If his suspicions were true, Vablatsky could threaten his future plans. No doubt she didn’t have a clue what her little prophecy meant now, but someday he and his Knights would be known throughout the wizarding world, and he needed to know her silence was guaranteed.

And this prophecy was exciting; it could indicate his plans would come to fruition. _It might be nice to see what else the seer might scry._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom learns some interesting information about the liar hiding among his classmates, thanks to some new connections among his fellow Slytherins. It seems his power is already growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, oh please, leave comments. I'd really like to know what people think-- how the story can be improved, suggestions, etc. I am trying to decide if it's worth continuing this story. I have a few more chapters I'm able to post at this point, but I am a little reluctant without a beta.

It was a chilly Sunday afternoon—November 21st, to be exact—and the past few weeks had lapsed without any more crumpled papers in classrooms (at least that he or any of his minions had seen). It was easy enough to watch the girl; they shared a few classes, both of them being excellent students. However, Vablatsky had never expressed an interest in Divination, had not taken the class even as a third year. One would think, given her heritage, she would have been eager to discover if she had the Gift. _Unless she already knew by then_.

Tom sat beneath a tree near the lake on Hogwarts grounds. With his cloak and scarf, it wasn’t too cool for him, especially as the day was not particularly windy. He was looking over a potions essay for Lestrange, having finished his own last week. Honestly, he was almost surprised his fellow Slytherin had finished the essay on the legality of love potions overall and Amortentia in particular before it was due. And it was decent, all said. Somewhere between Acceptable and Exceeds Expectations with minor edits; with the suggestions Tom had written neatly on the margins, it would firmly be ‘E’ work.

The prefect offered his assistance to all of his Knights, since it was in his best interests that they succeed. They usually only came to him when struggling, which he supposed was to be expected; however, they knew the price of failure. He did not suffer fools.

Glancing it over one last time, Tom nodded firmly to himself and rolled the scroll up. That would do nicely. Lestrange was clever enough he knew he could easily pass courses. He could skate through life on his family name, natural intelligence, and two-faced nature, and he knew it. He also knew that times were changing and theirs was perhaps the last generation of purebloods who would be able to do so. For that reason alone, Lestrange was willing to follow someone with a vision of the future that would benefit his family. Last year had proved definitively to his Knights that Tom was such a person.

He smiled to himself; it was a cold expression, a mere flexing of the lips to slightly alter their neutral position, his a little narrowed, more arrogant than anything. Yes, last year he had proved himself enterprising. The risk had been great, but the payout was absolute loyalty and surety in his abilities. Now, as a sixth year, Tom had only to grow his following and begin to secure their futures and his own.

Avery had a good friend in seventh year whom he was slowly bringing into the fold— Corvus Mulciber. The young man was a little brutish for Tom’s liking, but he was of good standing and it was rumored he’d already lined up an internship at the Ministry when he graduated. At their next study session, Mulciber was going to attend under the pretense of speaking to Tom about NEWTS. And Dolohov… that particular Slytherin had watched the group warily for years, and only now was making inquiries that showed he was ready for the next step.

Speaking of, Dolohov, Nott, and Avery were headed toward him from the castle. Tom slipped the parchment into his satchel and waited for the trio, his long legs cross as the ankles as sat against the leafless tree.

“Tom!” Avery grinned, the left side of his mouth rising higher than the right. It was his expression when he was particularly pleased with himself. “We have news!”

“ _I_ have news,” Dolohov corrected. There was an open letter in one hand. “I was told you were interested in the family life of one Elena Vablatsky, particularly as it pertains to secrets.”

Tom raised one brow, directing an unfriendly look at his two followers. Whether or not Dolohov would soon be joining his Knights, he should not have been privy to such information until Tom decided he was ready. Avery’s grin became chagrined, while Nott glanced down at his feet. At least they realized their mistake.

“Don’t be too hard on them, Riddle. I’ve known Freddie since we were little; I know all his tells,” Dolohov said, settling beside the prefect. “And it so happens I have cousins in Poland who were acquainted with the Vablatskys before they moved to England. Very closely acquainted. In fact, there was talk of Aurek Vablatsky divorcing his wife and marrying my cousin Audrina.”

“Divorce?” Tom murmured. Pureblood families rarely divorced. “For what cause?”

Dolohov’s smile, like the rest of him, was a modest expression. “Cassandra was unable to provide him with a child… and there was talk of infidelity, from what I understand.”

Tom paused to reflect before saying, “But she eventually provided him with Elena.”

“It’s curious,” the young man said, settling down beside Tom. “According to Audrina, Aurek was all set for divorce until just five years before we started Hogwarts. And the lovely Miss Elena is notably absent from wizarding society outside of school. In fact, none of Aurek’s family in Poland knew of the girl until quite recently, though those are all cousins and uncles and aunts.”

Tom looked toward his Knights. Nott was thoughtful, but Avery looked about ready to burst. At the prefect’s gesture, he burst out, “My aunt said Cassandra was touring around the time she’d have gotten with child, and she and her husband were estranged at the time. In fact, Antonin’s cousin--”

“Audrina says Aurek was in Poland for three months during Cassandra’s tour, before returning to their home here in Scotland,” Dolohov finished, proffering the letter to Tom with a flourish.

He accepted, skimming through the contents. Indeed, it seemed Audrina and Aurek had many discussions about the possible divorce. Aurek was unhappy with his childless state and his wife’s fame. She’d brought the Vablatsky name more renown than it had had in generations, and he disliked that his own research in new uses for adder’s fork was hardly registered in society. There was even a picture of Mister Vablatsky at the home of Audrina Lis, herself and her eight sisters fanned around the fair-haired man.

“So,” he said, folding the letter and handing it back to its addressee, “do we know who Miss Vablatsky’s real father is?”

It was Avery’s turn to add in again. “Lisabette says Cassandra spent quite a lot of time in Ireland before the two of them had their falling out.” He shrugged. “That is as far as we’ve gotten; Cassandra was out of the public eye for over a year and she stopped talking to just about everyone she knew during that time.”

“And she was childless when she returned?” he asked.

“Well, yes,” said Avery. “Unless she kept the girl hidden during parties and events and while travelling. You know, for several years.”

Tom leaned his head back, studying the barren branches of the tree as he mulled over this information. Elena Vablatsky was a bastard, born to some mysterious man via her adulteress mother. For whatever reason, about ten years ago the couple took the girl in and masqueraded her as legitimate, despite Aurek Vablatsky’s desire for children of his own. That would suggest Elena was originally being raised by her unknown father, and allowed the charade. Perhaps her father had died?

“Hm. Gentlemen, I think it might be time to confront Miss Vablatsky,” he said at last.

Dolohov slid the letter into a pocket. “I am glad I could be of help, Tom. Please let know if there’s anything more I can do. I am inclined to agree with Professor Slughorn that you are going places.”

Tom stuck out his hand in offering, which the other boy gladly shook. “I will consider you offer. Thank you.”

His week had started on a considerably good note.


End file.
